《Revival [The Lake House Sequel]》Chapter 8
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Ana
It amazes me, how quickly things can go from being good to bad. Or in my case, pretty shit to downright hell-on-earth.
How quickly you can go from having everything to losing it all in one breath.
--
Anastasia,
My beautiful girl. There is so much I want to say to you but I've let my pride and cowardice overrule my love for my daughter, and that is my greatest regret.
Visiting you last year and seeing what a wonderful woman you transitioned into was such a gift for me. Your father has done a better job in less than two years than I did in sixteen.
I was young and immature when I had you. Paul and I both were. I was a very selfish twenty-something-year-old who wanted something that would love me when no one else would but I also wanted to continue with a life of having no priorities or responsibilities.
I owe a lot of people money sweetheart. I dug myself into a hole so deep that it became my own grave. It's too late now. They want to kill me and by the time you read this, they will have most likely succeeded.
You waited your whole life for me to become your mother and I failed you. I chose evil and ugliness over you and for that I am so deeply sorry.
Please don't grieve for me. That is not why I'm writing this. I want you to have closure and never think of me again. Go on with your life how it was. But I couldn't leave this world without you knowing my true feelings.
You are an exceptionally beautiful, exceptionally smart and exceptionally selfless young woman. It's okay to be selfish sometimes, but not too selfish. Make sure you're happy. You have an amazing father and a better mother than I could have ever been right there in your home. Treasure that. You deserve the world in your control and I am most positive you will have it one day.
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I love you.
-Marie
I stared down at the letter lying on the hotel room sink in front of me. I can't remember if I was crying or not. I don't think I was. But then again, I barely remember anything from that week. Like I was there, existing, but I wasn't really there.
"Sweetheart," Dad knocked on the door. "It's time to go."
"Be right there." My voice was hoarse. I stood from the edge of the bathtub, smoothing down my black dress and folding the letter up to slide underneath my pillow.
--
Dad and I spent a week in New York. Marie was cremated and Grams told us we could have her but I could see the secret yearn she had to keep her daughter close-by. I helped Grams put the ornate glass jar high in her China closet. She deserved it more than I did.
They got the guys who killed her. Dad kept the gruesome details from me and I was grateful. Mom was involved with a lot of different people that didn't mess around. She owed them a lot of money for drugs and they warned her and warned her and warned her. It wasn't a game to them.
"Christmas is just a week away." Grams noted as she unpacked her suitcase in our guest room. We offered for her to come back home with us for a few weeks, just to get away from everything.
"Hm," I hummed. "Lisa's family is coming but, uh, I'm not feeling very spirited this year." I sat down on the bed.
"I don't think any of us are." Grams shook her head. "This took a toll on your father too. She was his first love, he really wanted to make things work. Especially for you. No one was expecting this."
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"The last time she was here," I said, looking down at my hands. "I told her to never contact me again. I was wrong; I should have told her to stay, gotten her help. I shouldn't have just sent her away like she was nothing. I'm sorry Grams, I'm so sorry."
Grams sighed, sitting down next to me. "It's the tragic things that happen that make us reevaluate everything and make us want to change our lives." She pushed my hair back. "I think to start; we should stop apologizing for things that are out of our control; things that we can't change about ourselves." She gives me a knowing look.
"I don't know how." I whispered.
"It's a good thing I'm going to be here for a little while then, huh? We can work on it together."
--
The frigid December air surrounded me when I sat out on the dock that night, but I barely noticed it. It was a cloudy night and the stars were a lot dimmer than they were in the summer. I stared at the sky, thinking about everything and nothing all at once.
Then there's warmth next to me. I didn't need to look up to know who it is. Justin let out a breath when he landed down on the cold wood, shivering in his hoodie. He didn't even look at me, just looks up instead.
"It's cold," Was all he said.
I didn't answer. It was silent for a long time, the only noise being the wind around us. I picked at the loose wood of the dock, ripping a piece off. When I tossed it at the water, it landed on the surface, cracking through the near frozen liquid.
"My mom's dead." I muttered, pulling my knees up to my chest. I pressed my mouth to the top of my legs, wrapping my arms completely around myself.
"So's mine." Justin said.
I looked up at him. His eyes were sad as he looked back. They were full of apology and pity and understanding. He knew loss. He knew detachment. And I didn't understand how he went through it all alone.
"When does it get better, Justin?" I choked out, muffled by my legs.
Justin shook his head, looking down. "It's doesn't. I'm sorry, but it doesn't."
All could do was nod, wiping at my wet eyes. He slides over, leaning slightly in closer to me. We don't look at each other again, but I can feel Justin's leg press against mine. And I'm not ready to push him away yet.
-
Hope you liked this chapter :)
twitter: @bugattibiebxr
ig: @thelakehouse_
(go read WASTELAND ily)
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